


Orthodoxy

by StarlightCaptivator



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Deity Au, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kinda, Mech Preg (Transformers), Mentioned Sexual Content, Mentions of canon-typical violence, Multi, Post-War, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22142698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightCaptivator/pseuds/StarlightCaptivator
Summary: For MegOP Week 2020- A glimpse into the post-war AU life of Megatron and Optimus Prime and how they're coping with carriage.
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Comments: 26
Kudos: 128
Collections: MegOP Week 2020





	1. Domesticity

**Author's Note:**

> Yay here we are!!! I hope this will be clear and all that good stuff with what I'm doing here, I'm having a blast writing these. ♥♥

Today, the halo was especially pissing Megatron off. 

He could blame the cybermones as easily as anyone else, or the phantom sensations from the dock of his Fusion Cannon, currently stored in a place of honor on the wall of his shared habsuite thanks to both the peace and the terrible draw the weapon had on his allegedly "delicate" systems. 

Systems, he would not stop insisting were in fact only delicate thanks to the mech sitting in front of him, diligently rubbing at his sore pedes. 

Of course, every time he brought about this line of conversation, his erstwhile nemesis and current doting partner would an helpfully pointed out, that it was his and his medic's responsibility to have made sure that _all_ of Megatron's systems were in working order after a battle, not just his combat systems, and so while it certainly did take two of them do the Textrahexian Tango, the sheer fact of the matter was that the oh so holy Optimus Prime's contraceptive programming had been wholly and place, and Megatron's simply had not been.

As if sensing this line of thought, and certainly sensing his gravid partner's annoyance, Optimus Prime looked up from his diligent work at Megatron's pedes. 

"It's honestly a shock that you had not kindled a new spark before this point." He said, as if it had not been the hundredth time he had said nearly this exact phrase. Megatron simply glowered at him, as _if_ the Prime was not happy with both their current arrangement and the state of it and as _if_ he needed to be reminded of how he and Optimus had turned into a couple of veritable petrorabbits in peacetime.

The damnable disc of light around Optimus' great dumb and pointy helm seemed to glow brighter for a moment in his simple glee.

Perhaps, the thing that pissed Megatron off most on that day was the ongoing obliviousness of almost everyone around him to that same disc of light, especially Optimus.

That cursed thing had shown up after a particularly violent battle, wherein Optimus had taken both of his hands in a fist and hit Megatron so hard on an upward blow to the chin to send him flying off of an embankment and into several, less sturdy soldiers.

Once he'd been able to re-online his visual feed, he'd looked up to see Prime on the embankment looking down at him, helm enwreathed in a disc of light, rays rotating about as Optimus glared down into the ditch and pulsing out farther as that resonant voice boomed Megatron's name.

It had been after that battle, that Megatron realized his mortal enemy must have also been his spark's resonant. 

That _damnedable_ halo.

It changed shape often, but never left, and even now post-war Megatron was too embarrassed by even the sheer concept of inquiring into it with others that he did not dare ask after it, let alone Optimus, with whom he'd shared several conversations with since the ceasefire was called about the nature of Primus and his so-called original Primes to know his belief and disbelief on the matter.

Megatron rubbed over his midsection with one hand, contemplating this, and he pretended not to notice Optimus looking up at him from half-shuttered optics, even as the halo thinned into a ring before regaining its it's disc-like state.

Megatron contemplated starting the old conversation again, to try and hint at the so-called divinity when Optimus' hand skirted from his pede up his leg to toy playfully at wires behind his knee joint. 

Instantly, Megatron's interfacing protocols sprung to life and his fans, already trying their best to cool a forging frame, whined into overdrive. 

He made some noise about moving to their _berthroom_ now that they _had one,_ but Optimus was already rising like some graceful god- no, not that, a graceful _warrior_ up and over him, to cage him on their couch as those clever digits came for Megatron's modesty panel. 

Any thought of conversation was long dead and gone, and as Optimus disengaged his battle mask to kiss him silly, Megatron could only be vaguely glad that the couch had a washable covering on it. 


	2. Differences

"I'm naming our child 'Barrel'." Megatron announced, apropos of nothing one day. 

Optimus looked up and took in Megatron's body language and his demeanor, so pleased with himself. He'd obviously had to think about this a lot. 

"It's pretty," Optimus started, unable to keep his hesitation out of his voice. 

"But?" Megatron asked, already sounding testy and somewhat confused. 

"How would we know if they like crystals when they're fully matured?" Optimus asked, deciding it better that if he was to poke the resting phase bear to do it head on. "Ah- or is it for the rarity of the mineral in question...?" 

Megatron had taken to looking at him as if he'd sprouted another helm, which to be fair: he did a lot. 

He followed it up by heaving a great sigh and rubbing between his optics as if he was developing a headache. 

"No, Prime, _Barrel_. _Bare-el_. As on a weapon. Not Beryl. _Primu_ s." Optimus shrugged as Megatron kept talking. "What kind of sparkling name is Beryl? Not that they'll have it long. " 

Now Optimus couldn't help but look at him like he'd sprouted another helm. " _Sparkling_ name?

"Yes," Megatron started, already in that tone that stated he was about to talk in that patronizing tone for several minutes. "The name all sparklings get when they're first born, the one before their growing-slash-possible-adult-name. Most commonly it's something relating to the carrier's alt. Your previous name was Orion Pax, now you are Optimus Prime." 

Silence hung between them a long moment. 

"That wasn't my 'sparkling name'." Optimus stated, resisting slipping into the same tones. "I never had a sparkling name, I was just named 'Orion Pax'. We didn't have 'sparkling names' in Iacon. " 

Megatron's expression went on a journey through disbelief and distaste and back again. 

"Who built you, Alpha Trion?" He sneered. 

"Actually, yes." Optimus answered dryly. "Both times." 

Megatron's expression journey extended, into shock, realization, and then the kind of resignation that usually came with being forced to acknowledge that one or more of his now joint subordinates with Optimus had done something supremely stupid. 

He about-faced almost immediately on the conclusion his journey of expression, face set into a forced indifference, and stalked into the other room muttering about Iaconians. 

Optimus waited a tic before speaking, thinking how nice it was to revisit old customs long thought dead. 

"We should call them Barrel!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TFW you realize the weird, old sage guy who built your baby daddy did this on purpose, probably


	3. Destruction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lived, bitch.

"Do you ever think about your resonant?" Megatron asked one day, tone guarded. With his middle swelling with Optimus' offspring he figured he couldn't be safer for it than at that moment.

It was, after all, a sensitive topic. 

Beside him, Optimus' vents stalled. Slowly, he sat up from his spot lounged beside him in their plush berth. 

Megatron met his gaze and held it unwavering, even as Optimus sighed. 

But, he looked down at Megatron with calculation in his optics, and his halo had shifted from it's default disc into a rotating triangular one. It always did that when Optimus was thinking deeply. 

His expression was guarded, but both of them knew that Megatron wouldn't bring up the topic if he hadn't had something on his mind about it in specific. 

"I try not to." Optimus finally answered, even as little rays rose and fell out of the golden triangle. "I don't have one, since the rebuild." 

Ah, yes, the rebuild. 

Megatron remembered that day on the docks with perfect clarity for as often as he'd reviewed that particular file after his jolt to the cranial case, from his tour with the bright-optic'd Pax, and ultimately the choice he made on almost a whim to aim for the younger bot in the subsequent raid on the place. 

Part of him wondered if it was that ancient glyph for the thirteenth on his spark casing that influenced him, that part of his spark that refused to be tied, ultimately afraid of submission and the implications such a glyph on his frame, and so close to his spark, meant. 

Sometimes he'd kicked himself, wondered if he'd been more charming and less violent then would he have had the youthful dockworker beside him? Wearing his brand? That much farther from knowing his true nature than he was in the present moment with his powerful frame and holy aura? 

Orion Pax's destruction and rebuild had been so complete that now after the fact, Megatron knew very well that he didn't have a glyph of his own, some representation of him marked into his frame or his systems. But he'd always wondered.

"I don't think your rebuild means you don't have one..." Megatron finally replied voice kept low and casual. "Your spark is still you, is it not?" 

Despite saying this, this.... _intensely_ soft and uncomfortably _Autobot_ ideal, Megatron quickly reminded himself that he, of all Decepticons had not ever, and likely would not ever- 

"...Are you asking to spark merge with me?" Optimus asked as he moved in closer, voice turning some kind of reverent. By the look of his halo, rapidly thinning out into the golden ring Megatron had started to associate with eros, he was extremely on board with the idea. 

It was said that a sparkmerge was the only _true_ way to know if your mate was your resonant or not, and in the more purple of prose it was said to be the highest point of pleasure and love, to be one with your resonant again as in the time before one's spark was encased in metal.

Naturally, Megatron sputtered, but reacted by taking hold of Optimus at the shoulders before the big mech could lean in closer and distract him. 

"N-Not, not yet." He stated gruffly, embarrassed. "I could be _amicable_ to such an idea some day, but... not yet." Megatron had turned his head away, and Optimus wrapped his arms around him. He looked eminently pleased with the turn the whole conversation took. 

"When you're ready," He said, voice rumbly in that pleasant way that made Megatron all warm and pliant under him "I'll be ready for you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol so guess who had the flu and then bronchitis??? Me, I did. Ya girl was sick for like two months. It got to the point I couldn't even write anymore! But I'm a lot better now. 
> 
> I'm going to be posting the last part of this soon, thanks for sticking with it with me. 💖


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quarantined readers can have a little fic, as a treat, in this trying time. 🥺

Megatron walked into the chamber of Vector Sigma like he owned the place. 

To be fair, he brought that selfsame gait in to several places, both on and off Cybertron, but especially there, and especially _today_ he walked into the chamber of Vector Sigma as if he owned the place. 

Tomorrow, he would be officially in the range of what both Ratchet and Flatline annoyingly called the "Final Phase" of his carriage, where he'd be lethargic and nastier and not inclined to leave his quarters while he rested in preparation for emergence. In reality, he could go into emergence any day, and he was sure that he had prepared himself for this fact, far more than any lazy and lethargic phase. 

He was Megatron, and he had too much to do to rest yet. 

And, he'd slipped his holy sparkling-sitter for the day, so he was taking advantage of the situation while he could. Optimus' sire coding was as fussy as the mech himself, with the constant check-ins and the touching and the completing the tasks Megatron was more than capable of doing himself. 

He had a limited amount of time, but he wanted answers before Barrel came and occupied it for the foreseeable future. 

Vector Sigma was dark when he entered in, but a couple steps in and the chamber lit to a dim glow. 

For as still and silent as it was, it should've been brighter. 

It gave Megatron a mild sense of superiority for a moment before annoyance set back in.

"Are you so cowardly as not to bother to manifest before the carrier of your grand-creation??" 

He'd had quite the diatribe planned, all stood with a hand under the curve of his distended abdomen, hoping his unborn offspring would conspire with him by flaring their spark energy every once in a while to punctuate his points with their glow.

But, the chamber lit immediately, if otherwise remaining silent and still.

Megatron reset his vocalizer.

Slowly, The orb that was Vector Sigma rose from it's resting place, and lit into brilliant shimmering gold. 

Slowly, a face coalesced out of the ever-shimmering, shifting polygons, 

Megatron resisted sneering at the facsimile of the visage of Alpha Trion as it appeared, knowing very well the ancient not-mech was fickle enough to refuse to appear if he was sufficiently insulted.

The not-optics of Alpha Trion stared down at him, rudely roaming to his swollen middle before settling on him, the person who would be asking the questions, expression falling flat. 

"What do _you_ want?" 

Megatron let a little of the sneer out after all, since the mood was set. 

"I'm here to talk about Optimus." 

Alpha Trion's visage made a face as if he was rolling his optics, and Megatron wondered for a moment where he could've picked up that mannerism when he spoke again. " Proceed with your question." 

"Questions" Megatron replied, needing to be a contrarian. "I want to know why a... someone like him needs a resonant, and why you made that happen, and then made it un-happen. I want to know what _his statu_ s means for my newspark."

All at once Trion's expression shifted, and Megatron was reminded all at once of Starscream at his smarmiest. 

"Orion was a mech as any other is." He said, matter-of-factly. "You changed that for him, if I recall." 

Megatron resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and stamp his pede. 

"I am _aware_ of that, old mech." He grumbled. "But you are his creator, you can tell me why he's.. he's..." 

If he had hands to do so with, Megatron got the strong impression that Alpha Trion would be steepling his digits in sadistic glee, watching Megatron squirm. 

"Why he's _divine_." Trion stated, pleasure apparent in his voice. "You were given a paradigm shift and _**now** _question it, of course." 

Megatron clenched his jaw, working his hardest not to react to the jab. Through gritted denta he responded with a curt "You could say that." 

"The simple answer," Trion said, surely to hear himself speak more. "Is that he wanted to be. Wanted to live life as a normal mech, go through the whole ordeal of the true love and the resonant and all that. Of course one can not hide such a powerhouse of a spark so easily, and your choices made it so he couldn't be a normal mech any longer, now didn't it? He's certainly not to his full potential as the arisen thirteenth, but he's much closer than the mech designated 'Orion Pax'." 

"And how will this effect Barrel?" Megatron asked, determined not to let the wily old not-mech escape the question that was really eating away at him, cursed coding. "Will they be .... like him?"

Alpha Trion's visage took on a more genuine expression, one of a bit of troubled thought, and Megatron was sure that if he had hands to do so with, he'd be stroking his ostentatious beard plating. 

"Well, this union of yours, and the fact that union has borne fruit is, quite simply unprecedented. Your 'Barrel' could be a normal mech, or could have any measure of ability of their sire's true nature. I suppose," Trion's polygons spread into a wide, disconcerting grin. "You'll know when they're born, won't you?" 

Megatron couldn't help himself then, he snarled at Trion's visage with his sharpened denta bared before turning tail on the infuriating former mech and making his way to the door out. 

"I look forwards to meeting my first grand-creation." Trion called after him with mirth in his voice as he went, his visage melding back into the sphere of Vector Sigma. 

Lights began to shut off behind him with each step, but Megatron couldn't resist getting the last word in, as he reached the threshold. 

"Perhaps you will." He said, affecting an airy tone. "Or perhaps we shall close this door-" to illustrate he put his hand over said door as he came up to it- at about the perfect height for the installation for a magna-lock. " And Cybertron can follow my lead, do things the _Old fashioned_ way, for a while." 

With that he slipped out of the chamber of Vector Sigma completely, and hastened to leave the area and return to the open air. 

Unsurprisingly, he could see Optimus on the expanse of road in front of him once he reached open sky, kicking up dust with his speed. 

Megatron was impressed, he'd not expected the fussbudget to actually cotton on to his disappearance until well after Megatron had returned to their shared quarters, but Optimus' sire coding was apparently stronger than he'd given it credit for, 

When he transformed, his head was enwreathed in a disc of light, with great rays rising and rotating out of it. Megatron grit his denta as Optimus approched, knowing his mate was angry with him and would know instantly that Megatron would feel no remorse for- 

It was unexpected, when Optimus grabbed him in a hasty embrace, looking _worried_ of all things, and Megatron realized that no, it wouldn't be _him_ Optimus was angry at, it would most certainly be himself, for being distracted when Megatron slipped out and away. 

The rays receded some as Optimus looked him over and found him to be unharmed, but did no retract entirely. 

"I found you." Optimus said finally, earnestly, relief paramount in his vocal patterns. 

Megatron couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for this silly old mech, who would not know he was a god and even as an all-important leader could panic over such a silly, inconsequential little thing. His ire over his little verbal sparring match faded rapidly, and not for the first time he decided that yes, he would indeed keep him, his sparkmate. 

Megatron reset his vocalizer, clearing it of emotion that certainly _wasn't_ present. His voice would be gruff when he spoke, but that too was fine. 

"Yes." He said "You found me." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay but in all seriousness, what a stressful year so far, am I right??? With all this not feeling great and stress, I've barely been able to do anything, so I'm glad to have this done now. I hope you all enjoyed it, despite the delay. It made me feel good to write. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! ♥


End file.
